


New Wings

by onereyofstarlight



Series: Marks & Wings [12]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:55:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26947822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onereyofstarlight/pseuds/onereyofstarlight
Summary: John has recovered enough to try out his new Artificial Wings. Virgil POV
Relationships: Tanusha "Kayo" Kyrano/Virgil Tracy
Series: Marks & Wings [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1370236
Kudos: 12





	New Wings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gumnut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gumnut/gifts).



Tracy Island wasn’t known for rolling hills or soft landings. The cliffs stood tall and proud, the rocks sharp and biting at their base. The capricious wind never ceased, shifting from breeze to gale with no thought to the inhabitants below. It was a far cry from the flat lands of Kansas, where they’d learnt to fly high and free in the long stretches of summer days. The inland forest and bush of their new home had sheltered Alan as a fledgeling with his first full plumage, but the dense wooded area was no place to rediscover flight.

The weeks that followed John’s brutal attack had been long and painful, full of hopeless nights and angry mornings. The artificial wings had consumed Virgil’s waking moments and he hadn’t been able to do more than collapse when they were done.

John spent many hours, bringing them forth and learning how to manipulate them anew, and it had been a joyous evening when Scott had smiled and pronounced him ready for the elements outside of the ex-magma chamber that stored their ‘birds.

The family trudged up the worn path to the take-off point, spirits high and chatter sailing right over Virgil’s head.

Alan and Scott leapt into flight, wings beating against the wind as they flew into position. John’s mark shone clear and bright in the sunlight, still scarred and jagged. The nerves trilled under his skin, itching at Virgil and he shuddered with a sudden restless energy as John walked to the edge.

Gordon lay a steady hand on his shoulder.

“He’s got this,” he murmured, eyes never leaving their brother as he paced the clifftop.

“I just wish I could be there for him. Not stuck on the ground.”

“You and me both.”

John shot an annoyed look at them and Virgil felt his muted nerves morph into a reproach.

“You are there for him,” said Kayo. Her voice was calm and sure, soothing against the inflamed anxiety, against the feeling – the _knowledge_ – that he should have done more.

“Okay John, we’re ready for you,” called Scott.

Virgil was hit by an wave of calm and John lifted in open air for the first time.

His new wings less unfurled than unsheathed. There was no soft ruffling of feathers, no tug of the wind calling him to the skies. John would need to fight for his place in the air. The sunlight reflected from his wings with a harsh metallic glint, unforgiving and cold as the steel in his eyes.

It didn’t suit his kind brother.

But it was what Virgil had made him.

A twinge of pain between his shoulder blades echoed through their bond as the feathers sliced through the skin of the otherspace. Weeks later and Virgil wondered if it would ever fade entirely. The sacrifice was just one more small price he would gladly pay for the rest of his life.

John’s flight feathers twitched as he stepped forward, the wind buffeting against his skin.

Two deep breaths and his wings began to beat. He ran, just like they all used to before their muscles had developed enough to pull them into the air from nothing. The dizzy excitement pounded in Virgil’s ears and John leapt high.

He doesn’t come down.

He hung in the air, aloft and smiling. Nobody moved, nobody breathed, except for the instinctive shift of feathers and the slow beat of John’s wings.

John whooped, loud and free, Gordon jumped and cheered beside him, running to the edge of the cliff, and Virgil felt the joy spreading and singing in his heart. John turned in his feathers and dived to meet Scott and Alan in an unspoken choreography as they fly together.

A slim arm wrapped around his and he looked down with a soft smile at Kayo.

“He looks good, doesn’t he?”

“It’s all thanks to you.” Her eyes flickered up at the sky, watching the darting movements as his brothers’ test John’s range of motion. She looked back at him, tracking down his neck, his shoulders, to land on his own abused mark.

“Was it worth it?”

“To see him like this? It’s worth every feather.”

The old guilt crept up as he watched his brother soaring above, tucked away again while John and Gordon were distracted. He knew the logic behind their arguments, his head was well aware of who should take the blame. But his heart had revolted at the image of John without wings, the horror and the overwhelming revulsion at the act were too much for him.

Kayo watched him, eyes crinkling with concern.

Virgil shifted, well aware he could never hope to hide his discomfort under her unrelenting gaze.

“You can’t hold onto this forever.” She laid a hand on his cheek, gently pulling away so that he followed her lead and drew into her embrace. “You’ve sacrificed enough, you’ve already atoned for a crime you bear no responsibility for.”

“I just wish…”

“We all wish,” she interrupted. “It doesn’t do any of us any good.”

Always matter-of-fact. Always gentle. Always right.

“No more leads then?”

“None.” She pulled away, gesturing sharp and angry. “He’s gone to ground. The GDF doesn’t want to waste their precious resources.”

“You know you’re not to blame either.”

“I want him to face justice,” Her voice was low and fierce. “He’s not going to hurt my family anymore, I want justice for what he did to John, for what he did to _you_.”

“He didn’t hurt me, love,” he whispered, pulling her close again. He didn’t want this, he’d give anything for life to be as it was. But if he couldn’t turn back the clock, than at least he would be grateful for the woman who stood by his side.

Kayo melted in his arms, burying her face in his chest. Virgil can feel her lips moving against his skin.

“He did.”

His eyes closed and he’s not watching, only feeling. He couldn’t see the way Kayo’s shoulders relaxed, how the tension drained from her. He couldn’t see the way John’s left wing locked, the sudden friction sending a shuddering force through to the tips of his pinions.

Instead, he felt the breath catch in his brother’s throat, felt the disbelief slam into him like a man without a parachute.

And then he was yelling, they were all yelling and John was falling.

Falling like Virgil promised he never would again.

Scott dived, Alan following a split second later, only this time it’s not a dream hovering at the edge between imagination and reality.

There was nothing, and it couldn’t be happening again. Nothing but the wind whistling in John’s ears and Virgil can’t think, can’t see, nothing but a vision of a broken body lying at the bottom of the cliff on a bed of artificial wings.

He groaned and pitched forwards as his mark heaves under his skin.

“No, Virgil,” said Kayo, her voice desperate and far away. “You can’t.”

He was deaf to her pain and blind to his own, his body acting on pure instinct to aid a brother in need.

He wouldn’t let John fall. He promised.

The lift called forth broken wings, scarred and pin feathers half grown. He can’t extend his wing, can’t reach out to John and he’s mindless of the way his primaries drag in the dust as he stumbled to the edge of the cliff.

He didn’t want to look down but he’d do it for John.

They caught him. One wing was limp and the other fluttering, and Scott would have a bruised rib for his thanks, but they caught him.

John’s face was white as his wings ought to be and his knees were shaking. He fell to the ground, his face skyward. Virgil reached for him, sweat dripping to the ground below as the lift finally failed, his wings sinking back into his skin.

“They caught you,” he mumbled, still in a state of shock.

“They always do.”

His breath came short and sharp, wheezing from the panic and adrenaline that had flooded his system. His head lolled sideways and he stared at Virgil.

“Gravity sucks.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Original published on Tumblr on 11/10/2020


End file.
